


Hi, Please Smother Me

by ArtHistory



Category: Original Work
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Worship, Face-Sitting, Light BDSM, M/M, Rimming, Weight Gain, fat kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:25:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16967637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtHistory/pseuds/ArtHistory
Summary: A male fairy in a fantasy biker bar tries to play impish with a massive male elf.This escalate.





	Hi, Please Smother Me

“Hi, would you be willing to smother me to death with your ass?”

The bar was dim. Old and edging on the side of grungy. The bar itself was concrete, run by an orc who was notably missing not only his left eye, but three fingers on his right hand. A fight broke out around one of the pool tables, two, long-bearded dwarves flying on top of each other. One broke a bottle over the others thick head, and fists flew before eventually their lips met, and the rest of the players simply moved around them.

Yes, it was that type of bar.

The type that grey, sour old men frequented to get a good fuck from other grey, sour old men. A Drow and a half-elf made eyes T one another, the first taking out a knife The air was thick with cigar smoke and drunken breath, the bar’s old, factory-style lights keeping a dim haze over the grey orr bald heads of the men, elves, orcs, and drow that roamed the bar. Warm, meaty palms slipped around wide lower backs, settling on love handles or obscenely toned hips, beefy biceps wrapped around shoulders, lips met lips with such intensity that roughly half the bar would have beard or stubble burn by the evening’s end.

Muscular. 

Beefy. 

Chunky. 

Chubby. 

Fat. 

Spherical.

Every man in the bar met one of these descriptions that all simply fell under “BIG”. Bulks shifted every time someone moved a tattooed arm to bend another oversized mug of beer or disgustingly huge bite of greasy bar food to their mouth. 

Every man, notably, but one.

The petite, twinkish fae swirled a cherry-laden toothpick in his bright pink martini, purring lightly as his wide eyes gazed about the room. Gil stood out almost comically so. His lavender top unbuttoned halfway down his chest, showing off tiny, tight pectorals and the very top of a hollow, lithe stomach. His hands were soft, delicate as he swirled his drink further. He locked eyes with a man at the bar, slowly bringing the toothpick to his pink lips and sucking each cherry off with a gentle *POP*. His free hand tucked a long, blonde lock behind his pointed ear, and tiny feet barely touched the floor as he rose, nearly floated to the bar.

The elf sitting there was unfathomably meaty. Thick, beefy biceps brought a third mug of beer to his lips, black tattoos coursing up from his sausage-like fingers. A perky set of softened pectorals nearly rested on the bar, actually resting a wide, broad shelf of a gut that almost forced apartment the elf’s kissing thighs, each larger than the entirety of the fae’s waist. 

But the real crime present was the elf’s ass.

It was, frankly, illegal. Stretching the screaming fabric of his low-riding jeans to their absolute limit. Each cheek was essentially on display, the dark blue looking painted on the wide, fat globes. A tan belt failed to contain the ocean of tan lard, the tops of the elf’s enormous ass spilling out over its top, creating a deliciously biteable slab of rich, fatty caramel. That ass flowed over the tiny stool it was resting on, nearly hiding it’s top amidst a sea of jean-clad jiggle. The full cheeks of the elf’s face rounded upwards as Gil slid his hand to the elf’s resting elbow, a grey eyebrow raising on the elf’s full, handsome face.

“Hi, would you be willing to smother me to death with your ass?”

The elf’s eyes went wide. 

Gil smiled. The immortal fae always loved so impishly teasing the aging men here, his wide eyes and lithe, hairless frame usually leaving men dumbfounded with the raunchy, terrible things his plush little mouth spat out. This elf was bottom-heavy. Big, round, fat. He was probably used to being teased, maybe he even enjoyed it.

The elf’s eyes steeled.

Gil’s heart thumped.

Uh oh.

“Sure.” The elf said. His voice was deep, gruff. His huge hands settled on Gil’s hips, lifting the immortal up as if he weighed nothing and plopping him into his massive lap. Gil gulped, cheeks flushing beet red as the elf puffed out his gut, the lard flooding against Gil’s tight, toned stomach and pinning his bony back to the bar. The elf’s fingers threaded into the back of Gil’s long, blonde hair, making a fist and tipping the fae’s head upwards to meet his eyes.

“But first, you gotta prove you know how to worship weight. Size. Fat”

Gil’s mouth was dry, his pupils like dinner plates as he stared at the elf’s handsome, rugged face. He looked to have a scar, along with an eyebrow piercing. The ring of lard around his jaw and more-than-budding second chin might have, in another light, made him appear cherubic. But here? The elf simply looked like some ancient, forgotten god of gluttony. Gil’s breath was coming in a hot, needy pants.

He gave the smallest of nods.

The elf grinned, and in a flash his meaty palm forced the fae’s head between his generous cleavage. There were a few hoots and hollers down the bar, the orcish bartender chuckling as the fae loudly moaned, his mouth working ling the elf’s fatty pecs, lips kissing, hands squashing those huge tits more and more against his face, smothering himself in the elf’s lard.

“Ooo, we got a live one, here.” The elf grinned, pressing the fae’s head deeper, blowing out his gut and pressing the fae further against the bar, forcing his twinkish form to sink into his tits, his mountainous middle.

Gil could scarcely breathe, and thank the stars he didn’t need to, his hands jumping to the elf’s love handles, squeezing and kneading the rich dough he found there, slim little cock aching desperately in his tight trousers, slim hips bucking into the man’s belly.

The elf let out a deep, quaking laugh, sending his gut into a sea of wobbles, only causing Gil to-

“A-Ah! Oh!” The fae cried, hands locking onto the elf’s flesh tight enough to bruise, a dark spot staining his pants, a bit of cum leaking through it into the elf’s belly button.

The elf laughed again, grinning like a shark.

He picked the fae up by the back of his shirt with one hand, tossing him roughly to the floor. Gil moaned, huffing and puffing, looking completely undone as he lay pathetically in an obliterated heap. The elf towered over him, reaching beneath his huge gut to unhook his belt.

“You still want to worship me, little fairy? Want me to smother you with this ass?” The elf growled, the other patrons of the bar laughing, cheering and raising their drinks, or watching attentively, hands to their bulging crotches.

Gil nodded.

“What was that?” The elf purred, exhaling and puffing out his gut so quickly the button simply rocketed off, the zipper tearing open, meaty fists forcing down his jeans to reveal a massive cock tenting the world’s smallest, tightest, bright-green undies.

“I-I said-” Gil gulped, the elf slowly lowering his underwear, freed cock slapping at his enormous gut.

“W-would you be willing to smother me to death with your ass?”

The elf turned around, the two, global cheeks of his great, tanned ass on display.

“With pleasure.”

Gil cried out in pleasure as the ocean of fat flooded his face. His soft hands spread the oceans of flesh, tongue tracing the walls of the elf’s cheeks, then demandingly working the elf open.

The older man shuddered, fist moving to heft up his gut, finding his cock and beginning to pump, crying out Gil’s tricky little mouth penetrated him, the fae’s hand slapping at either cheek, his slim cock already leaking.

The elf gasped, groaned as the fae so decadently tongue-fucked, wobbled, worshipped his great fat ass, feeling the immortal’s hands grab and squeeze, his handsome face squashed beneath the miles of fat he’d packed on.

They came within moments of each other, the elf painting the underside of his gut with his ecstasy, the fae further staining his ruined pants.

The elf shakily moved off Gil, chuckling as he laid quivering at the fae’s side, the bar quietly going back to their business.

“So...you didn’t die.” The elf grinned, his meaty tits rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

“I didn’t” Gil panted in kind, the immortal returning the elf’s grin.

“Guess you’ll have to get fatter.”


End file.
